


nothing's fair in love and war

by MavenMorozova



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Crying, Dark Albus Dumbledore, Death, Duelling, Feelings, Good Albus Dumbledore, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, One Shot, Request Meme, it's complicated - Freeform, literally at 3:30 am!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26189986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MavenMorozova/pseuds/MavenMorozova
Summary: The 1945 duel, but make it angstier.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	nothing's fair in love and war

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: ☠ character death, lots of angst (anon rq on tumblr)
> 
> enjoy:P

He could barely see the world around them for the lights flashing past his head and the rush of power swirling through his body, up his spine, everything he ever was meant to do spilling out of him with abandon, for this was the only chance in which he would ever get to do what he was doing.

Albus Dumbledore waved his wand high above his head, yet another Dark curse flying from its tip, a purple flash, almost like a lightning strike, making its way towards his nemesis. His lover. His enemy who he had never meant to be his enemy.

On one hand, Albus was thrilled that he could be in possession of such power; the feeling was heady and lovely and terrible like too many shots of firewhisky, and it was sickening like an excess of those horrid blood lollipops. He hated it, and he loved it, and he wanted more. But on the other hand, he saw Gellert, his beloved Gellert, wild white hair caught in the wind, dichromatic eyes flashing in anger and ecstasy, pouring just as much power into his attacks as Albus was, and he was  _ awed _ .

This duel was everything he had ever wanted it to be, furious and powerful, passionate and needlessly cruel. Albus hadn’t wanted to duel Gellert Grindelwald, but now that he was in the middle of it, he was releasing everything, every power he had ever obtained, for this was the one time he would get to expound and tap into his Dark side without any repercussions. For although Albus had always been entranced by Dark magic, one might even say,  _ intoxicated _ , he had needed to uphold his Light reputation, that of a good, kind Hogwarts professor who had never been anything less than a champion for muggle-borns and so-called ‘lesser’ species.

But now… The world knew that he needed to destroy Grindelwald, and so here he was, releasing every one of his fantastic Dark spells from his arsenal: those recorded in secret from the Restricted Section at Hogwarts, to the Scandinavian curses taught to him by Gellert, to Albus’s own creations. It felt wonderful, and as powerful as the feeling was, it was getting to his head; he almost couldn’t tell that it was the man he loved that he was firing his magic at.

He was brought back to the moment as Gellert screamed in pain from a successfully pointed shadow jinx that they had created together. The curse in question was a sharp jab of a concentrated force of one wizard’s magic, causing unimaginable emotional pain, but only based on the experiences of the individual. Gellert, of course, had faced terrible things, both of his and others’ doing, and he was now suffering the consequences. They had sworn never to use this curse on each other. But that had been long ago, when they were young and stupid, when they had not known where they would stand now.

Albus knew, not only through his high legilimency aptitude but also through his intense knowledge of his former lover, that Gellert hated who he had once been. How weak, how powerless. But what Gellert probably did  _ not  _ suspect was how much Albus hated himself, not only for the fool that he’d once been, but also for the coward he had become over the years leading up to the duel and the power-hungry bastard he was now.

In fact, the only thing that Albus most likely craved more than power was Gellert’s love. But he had long lost that luxury, having given the gift away in his stupidity. He would have done anything to go back to 1899, to heal the bridges he had burned with Gellert, to even destroy his relationship with his siblings and the real, good world, if it meant being at Gellert’s side.

Alas, it did not matter anymore. Gellert was dead. Grindelwald was all that was left; the Dark Lord, the muggle hater. The ruthless murderer and master manipulator.

But that scream emitted from his lover’s mouth… It made Albus wonder. Too painfully he remembered the delightful shrieks and sinful noises that Gellert’s mouth had made at Albus’s behest, and too keenly aware he was of the absence of that joy and pleasure now.

If Albus succeeded, he would never hear either of those sounds again.

Another well-aimed jinx and Grindelwald was on his knees, nearly all the fight gone out of him. Dusk was nearing now, for they had begun dueling for a little over three hours now. Albus was exhausted, but he nevertheless pressed on, the magic twirling mercilessly from his wand and his other bare hand towards the other man, stronger as the time passed on. He was more than slightly delighted at the pain he was causing, and the thought of that itself made Albus writhe simultaneously with nausea and unsuppressed glee. He was glad that none of his Light side cohort members could see the malicious, almost sadistic glint in his blue eyes or the way that his fingers twitched on his wand as he itched to release yet another terror.

They would never love him then.

Grindelwald’s prowess in Dark magic had shown blatantly at the beginning of the duel, but Albus, they both knew, had always been far more skilled in general, and on top of that, he had mastered the art of deflecting and re-inflicting spells of which he had no knowledge of, giving him an unbeatable advantage over his nemesis. Grindelwald had been doomed from the start, in a technical sense.

One thing that Albus had overlooked, however, was how his emotions would play into the game. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he still loved Gellert, even in all his cruel beauty and twisted soul and mind. It only made him the more compelling. At first, Grindelwald had used this to advantage, but as the duel had worn on, late afternoon into evening, Albus had come to relish the power that sprung easily to his fingertips, and that had outweighed everything else. As if he was always meant to be this way.

He easily dodged a Killing Curse from Grindelwald, then shot a Darker version of a Full Body-Bind in return, for he had no wish to kill his lover, only maim him or put him in a temporary coma. Enough time so that he could be arrested and imprisoned. Grindelwald laughed as he deflected the spell, but the sound was pained. He knew that he was going to fail, and his desperation was not lending him any favors.

“Gellert!” Albus called out to him, voice hoarse from disuse. “Stop this! You know that there’s only one way in which this can end!”

His enemy, his lovely boy, sneered, the expression marring his beautiful face. “Is that so?”

He  _ had  _ to know. He was a Seer, after all, and though his knowledge of the future was mostly kept to broad-scale events, Albus was sure that this counted as such. “Gellert,” Albus pleaded again, voice softer this time, almost begging. The tone of it was so painfully familiar and reminiscent of better times that he wanted to cry. A headache was building behind his eyes.

“What?” Grindelwald spat, shooting a red-hued jinx at him. “You think that this miraculous  _ ‘love’  _ of yours will win me back over, Albus? Oh, no. Oh, no, no,  _ no _ . I have seen your mind, my dear, and I know how truly abhorrent it is.” He chuckled, a dark thing that faded off immediately, and Albus attempted in vain to swallow his bitterness, but it kept rising to the surface again in the form of unrepentant bile, sour and unwelcome.

Albus sent another curse through the air, a powerful shockwave that made Grindelwald stumble and fall. He glared up at Albus from the ground, casting a shield around himself as he conjured his signature blue fire. “A repelling jinx is hardly a worthy spell of me,” the white-haired man mocked, tilting his head as he let his fingers dip, unscathed, into the flames. “You must have better than that.”

“I don’t want to truly hurt you,” Albus murmured, stepping close and brushing his fingers along the smooth, almost wet dome of Grindelwald’s protection charm. “You know that as well as I do.”

Grindelwald nodded smoothly. “Yes, Albus. I know every part of you.”

He had nothing to say to that, as it was true. Gellert Grindelwald knew him physically better than any other, as Albus had never taken any other lovers. And Gellert Grindelwald also knew him better emotionally and mentally than anyone else as well. It was only around him that Albus was ever truly himself.

_ He wouldn’t let his own desires stand in the way. _ Albus had to keep repeating this mantra to himself, lest he lose the last ounce of control he obtained over the situation and his own tenuous grip on his power. As Grindelwald allowed his blue fire to be set free, the substance licking at everything it touched and leaving only death behind, Albus let the heat caress him, let it surround him as he spouted a wave of enchanted water from his wand, which promptly killed the fire and turned the water to steam. It was not the regular  _ Aguamenti _ , far more difficult, but it was as easy to Albus as breathing air. He shot Grindelwald an unimpressed look. This, on top of everything else, showed that his fight was dying.

There was only one thing left to be done. A series of simple spells, done in quick succession, if not, strictly speaking, honorable, at least in terms of a duel. First, a Runic ritual that displaced Grindelwald’s shield. Then, a quick Confundus charm to confuse him, followed by several Darker hexes cast in succession, and finally, his dark shadow of emotion, compressed into a knife that entered Gellert’s abdomen with a twist and a crunch.

Again, his love screamed in pain, falling and clutching the weapon that was not there. “Albus—”

Oh,  _ fuck _ . Albus had not meant to send the curse so fast, so deep.

“GELLERT!” He barely recognized his own voice. The Wizarding World would praise him, but Albus only felt hot shame. It seemed that he had indeed lost control in the end, and he  _ hated  _ himself for it. He  _ hated  _ himself. But Albus did not let him lie there pitifully alone, striding over to where Gellert Grindelwald lay and crouching beside him. “Gellert,  _ der schatz _ ,” he whispered, using the pet name that the other man had always called him. “I never wanted us to end like this.”

Grindelwald’s eyes looked faded and dull, defeated, as he replied. “You made your choice. I made mine. This was destiny... _ mein liebe _ .”

Despite himself, Albus felt a tear slipping down his face. Then another, and another. “I meant only to subdue you, Gellert, I meant never to—oh, darling, I am so,  _ so  _ sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Gellert replied softly, looking up at him slowly. “You wanted me gone. Perhaps it is for the best.” There was bitterness in his tone, but perhaps something else as well. Hope? Some sort of challenge?

“What are you saying?”

“One of us had to die for the other to see their dreams move forward,” Gellert said. “It seems that the best wizard won.” He pressed his lips together, and Albus allowed himself a brief moment to stroke his lover’s hair gently, admiring the soft thinness of it after so many years. “You  _ are  _ a legend, Albus.”

“I am not.” He heard his own voice break slowly, for though this was meant to be humorous, it fell flat and cold, sending a shiver of shameful regret through him instead. He did not want to be a killer.

“Well,” Gellert mumbled, “you certainly will be once I am dead.”

They both knew that the moment was approaching when Gellert would breathe his last breath. There was nothing that could be done for the wound magically; it was too intrinsically connected to the psyche. There was no point in trying. Albus was not stupid, and he thought that perhaps Gellert was right, after all. Perhaps it was for the best.

“This is how love works in war,  _ liebling _ ,” Gellert whispered, and with a small gasp, he pushed himself upwards to kiss Albus on the lips. It was chaste, and it was short, and it was cruel. Why was the world this way?

They were entrenched in their own moment in time, though the Earth kept spinning brazenly on its axis. Albus almost wished that he could do everything over once again. Perhaps he could have changed Gellert’s heart all those years ago. Perhaps he could have changed his own.

_ Too late,  _ his mind whispered maliciously back at him, and without warning, Albus let out a choked sob. “I love you,” he murmured to the silence, but Gellert was already gone.

**Author's Note:**

> you can always send me a request on @darkalinas! ( i KNOW it says fic requests closed but just...ignore it. i give u permission hahaha )  
> note: title comes from Fleurie's "Love and War" which i highly recommend:)
> 
> comments are always appreciated!


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